


After the Fall

by RomanoffOrcrist



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-HYDRA Reveal, Suspense, Where Was Clint Barton During Captain America 2?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 23:13:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6878680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomanoffOrcrist/pseuds/RomanoffOrcrist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of what happened to Clint Barton when HYDRA swarmed out of hiding, and when SHIELD fell</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this shortly after CATWS, so that was before AOU...based on AOU he probably at the farm, but this is a fun alternative

Agent Clint Barton sat atop the roof the hotel his team was occupying. The other agents were either asleep or playing cards. Clint needed some time alone. He noticed the sound of the roof door opening, and heard the tred of one of his companions in full tactical gear coming towards him. This made him suspicious.   
"It's a nice night." Clint remarked. "Yeah," the agent Clint was now able to determine as Anderson responded. Clint could hear the distinctive sound of Anderson raising his arm, as the fabric of the uniform was heavy. Then he heard a scuffle downstairs. He whirled to face Anderson, who thrust the knife that he held in his upright hand at Clint, who barely had enough time to react. He ducked under the strike and kicked his attacker in the knee, causing him to become unbalanced. The agent staggered back.   
"Anderson, what's going on?" Clint questioned.   
"Hail HYDRA!" Anderson exclaimed then lunged towards him, his knife raised. Clint ducked and grabbed the arm holding the knife then threw Anderson over his shoulder, prying the knife out of Anderson's hands. Clint heard gunshots being fired downstairs. He stepped on the agent's leg, but Anderson twisted around pushing Clint off. Anderson jumped up but Clint pushed him right back down. Anderson kicked him in the face sending him backwards. Clint did not want to kill Anderson but could see no choice. Anderson pulled out a gun and fired at Clint. He attempted to dodge the bullet but it struck his abdomen. He fell to his knees, clutching his wound and inadvertently dodged another bullet that was aimed at his head. Anderson started to stand up but Clint leapt up and jump kicked Anderson in the face, knocking him out. Another agent burst through the roof door. Clint immediately dropped to the ground as the new assailant -agent Debey- shot where Clint's head had been. Clint deftly caught Anderson's abandoned knife in his hand and threw it at Debey in such a way as to knock the gun from his hand. Debey was a good agent, thus was unfazed by the knife. He whipped out another gun and shot at Clint. Clint let himself fall like dead weight to dodge the bullet. He quickly grabbed one of Anderson's weapons and spun around and threw it at Debey as Debey shot Clint. The knife found it's mark in Debey's neck, and so did Debey's bullet. The projectile seared into Clint's abdomen, giving him twin wounds. The injuries were bleeding and painful but he knew he had to move. He snatched weapons from the fallen agents. He then snuck down the stairs into the hotel. When he got to the block where the team's rooms were he heard Agent Stevens talking. Clint slid against the wall by the cracked door. "That's all of them. Have Anderson and Debey reported back from killing Barton?" Clint did not hear the other Agent's response for he immediately darted down the hall and around the corner, deciding against stopping to get his bow from his room since Agent Stevens was one of his roommates. He tried to tread lightly through the halls but once he reached the stairwell he bolted. He ran down the stairs, each step causing riveting pain from the shots in his abdomen. He became winded quickly despite his excellent physical shape. After he got to the third floor he felt rushed, so he jumped over the rails to the next story. He let out a great huff of pain, and gripped the rail from torment. He took a breath, gritted his teeth, and jumped down to the next level. He rested again, and on each floor until he reached the base level. He staggered a bit to regain balance and recover from the jolt of agony. He then cautiously opened the door and squeezed out then sprinted out of the Hotel into the parking-lot. He knew better than to take his car or one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. cars for he knew there trackers in them. He needed to steal a car. He checked each car to see if one had the keys in it. He found one but the door was locked. Checking over his shoulders, he pulled out the knife he had taken from one of the agents, and jacked the car lock. He peered up to the roof and saw two figures where he had left Anderson and Debey. Clint jumped into the car, and started it up. It was an old car and took a while to start. Once it was going he pulled it out of the parking space and drove slowly out of the parking lot. Only once he was away from the Hotel did he drive at top speed. He did not know where to go but he knew he needed to get away from there. What sort of treachery had transpired? Clint tried to make sense of it as he sped down the empty street. He needed a faster car, for this old one was not cutting it. He kept his eyes peeled for another car he could take. He knew he needed to treat his wounds. They were bleeding over his clothes and were burning. He tried to push the pain aside and concentrate on his surroundings. He eventually spotted a car that looked like easy bait and decided to snatch it since he did not think he was being closely followed. He was lucky to have found a sports car. Now he had a fast getaway car, but he could think of nowhere to go. He considered going to a S.H.I.E.L.D safe house, but if he was being hunted, they would know of all the safe houses. He needed to contact Director Fury about this treachery. After driving for about an hour he pulled over to a pay-phone. The pain in his abdomen from the duel bullet-holes had dulled to a throbbing ache. He clutched his waist as he pulled himself out from the car. He punched a S.H.I.E.L.D code into the payphone keypad but was met with static. He tried it again. Nothing. He looked around to make sure he was not being followed. He then dialed Natasha's number. It rang and rang, until it reached the voicemail. He sighed with exasperation. He dialed Steve's number. Steve did not pick up either. Clint gave up and entered a nearby store. He was glad he was wearing black, for it should camouflage the blood for any strange people who might be out in the dead of night, although he was sure the scent of blood permeated from him. He tried his best to walk normally despite his injuries. He gathered some first aid materials and a hoodie to purchase. Clint had no money with him, so when given his total by the flat, overworked, late-night cashier, he entered a code into the credit card keypad to pay through S.H.I.E.L.D's credit system. He got an error message. He tried several different combinations, none of which worked. He was confused as to why none of his S.H.I.E.L.D codes were working. The phone, unable to reach Natasha or Steve, and now the credit. This had never happened during any of his missions. Something big and bad was at work.  
Using basic undercover skills Clint put on a smile, "Let me go to my car and grab my wallet." The cashier shrugged and did not even notice as Clint swiped the bandages he had intended to buy. Clint jumped into his car, not wanting to linger lest he be found by his traitorous companions or the store workers. 'Nah Clint, you're just paranoid, nobody's following you,' Clint told himself. But years of training taught him to always be alert, and he could not shake the lingering feeling of danger.


	2. Chapter 2

Clint pulled over so he could treat his wounds. He went into a public bathroom which consisted of a single stall with a sink that was practically a separate building from the surrounding structures. He peeled off his sticky blood-soaked shirt to clean the wounds. It was a very painful process, but using the sink water and paper-towels he wiped off the blood surrounding the bullet holes and managed to wash the inside a bit. He then wrapped the stolen bandage around his waist several times to cover both the entrance and the exit sites. He pulled his soiled shirt back on and vigorously washed his hands to clean off all the blood. He exited the bathroom and observed his surroundings. He could see nothing strange: no attackers, and his stolen car was still there. He could hear nothing suspicious as he cautiously returned to his car. No whispers, radio beeps, or weapon clicks, he could sense nothing amiss. He was now back in his car. He pulled out and returned to the road. He felt a need for haste and drove rather quickly. He was now on a more crowded highway and had to slow down. Still speeding but not as fast as before. As soon as possible he peeled off the main road and sped down the empty street. After driving down relatively quiet roads for three hours, the sun was rising, and Clint was alerted when he heard the loud noise of speeding cars. They appeared to be coming from both directions. He rolled down the window to verify that he was indeed hearing noises from both directions. He turned a bend to see two S.H.I.E.L.D cars barreling towards him. One pulled into the lane in front of him while the other stayed on the opposite lane, effectively blocking him off as the road was surrounded by a mountainside on one side and a railing on the other. Clint immediately saw this as a threat, despite the fact that they were S.H.I.E.L.D vehicles. Deciding to face the two rather than however many were behind him, he continued towards the stopped cars. Clutching the steering wheel, at the last second he swerved around the car in the opposing lane, scraping his car against the railing. He slammed down on the accelerator and speed away, counting on the fact that they were facing the opposite direction to slow them down. The abrupt stretching of his body aggravated Clint's bullet-wounds, but he was pumping with adrenaline. He turned the car left and continued down a twisty road. He soon heard the S.H.I.E.L.D cars barreling behind him. He heard a gunshot and swerved the car to attempt to dodge the bullet. One of the cars gained on his right side as they rounded a right turn. Clint steered his car closer and closer to the rail, smashing the gaining car between himself and the rail. The gunshots continued. One went through and hit the front windshield on the passengers side. Another whizzed by and struck the side mirror. Clint suddenly swerved over and cut off and gaining car on his left side. He clipped the front of it and sent it spinning, creating a small barrier between him and the other three cars. He sped away, the bullets still flying towards him. As he kept going he gained momentum. He used this to his advantage: as the cars almost caught up, Clint pulled the emergency brake and, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he turned it, he spun the car around to make right turn. Unsuspecting this, the cars sped on past him, slamming on the brakes when they noticed his move. Clint veered into the highway and merged in between the cars, trying to get as far as possible from his pursuers. He then took an exit onto the interstate. After a few minutes he heard sirens. He glanced into the rearview mirror and saw a police car pursuing him through the traffic. Clint cursed under his breath. If the traitorous S.H.I.E.L.D agents did not know where he was they would now. He continued speeding, wishing there was a way to shake the police off his trail. He wondered if the police would continue to chase him once he crossed the state line. He desperately hoped it was soon. He glanced down at the gas meter and saw he was nearing empty. Clint pondered if it might be a good idea to turn himself over. That might be a good way to escape is pursuers. He got off the next exit and pulled into a subdivision, the police still chasing him. He pulled over. The police cars pulled up behind him. An officer got out of her car and walked up to Clint's window, which was rolled down. "You're in a lot of trouble!"


	3. Chapter 3

The officers from the other cars got out and raised their weapons.  
"Do you know how fast you were going?" The officer who stood by the window questioned.   
Clint winced, "Yes."   
"How fast?" The officer asked with her hands on her hips.   
"Well I don't know exactly, but I did realize that I was speeding; I'm being chased."  
"And avoiding police to boot. License?" She cut in.   
"Not with me. Can you please arrest me!?" Clint implored quickly.   
She stared at him for a few moments, "I guess it's just lucky you want to, because I'd have to anyway!" She opened the door to his car. The police still had their guns out. Clint slowly stepped out of the car with his arms raised in surrender. The movement was aggravating to his wounds. He held his wrists out in front for her to handcuff.   
"Not happening!" She scoffed. As she pulled his arms behind him and locked the handcuffs on him, he groaned because of the torment to his injuries. Two other officers came over and removed the weapons from Clint's pocket and searched for others.  
"You got a license for these?" An officer inquired.   
"Yes," Clint answered.   
"Let's see it," He demanded.  
"Not with me," Clint replied.   
Hands cuffed behind him, he was led to police car and pushed inside the back seat, each movement inflaming his injury. Clint sighed through his teeth. The first officer shut the door.   
"There's blood on his shirt," Clint heard one of the agents who had searched him, inform the others. Clint began looking around outside to make sure the supposed S.H.I.E.L.D agents were not near. Two police got into the car and one started driving it.  
"Why's there blood on you?" The officer in the passenger seat asked.   
"I was shot," Clint replied.   
"Why?" The man asked.   
"I really don't know," Clint said expressively.   
"By who?" The man continued interrogating.   
"Same people who are chasing me," Clint replied.   
"Again, who?" The man demanded.   
Clint took a deep breath but before he could answer the driving officer questioned, "More importantly, who are you?"  
Usual protocol during capture, was that agents withhold information for purposes of not blowing another agent's cover or giving away who had intel on the captors, but this was a different situation. He was arrested by police for speeding, they were supposed to be the good guys.   
"I'm a S.H.I.E.L.D agent," He began.   
"S.H.I.E.L.D: New York Alien invasion?" The man clarified.   
Clint grimaced at the association, most likely these people blamed S.H.I.E.L.D much like people blamed the Avengers, which Clint was one as well, but decided that was not pertinent. "Yeah, I guess we played a small part in the defense," He defended.   
After a moment the woman spoke, "Who was chasing you?" she prodded strongly.   
"My fellow agents," Clint replied.   
"What did you do?" She demanded.   
"It wasn't just me, they killed some of my other colleagues as well..." Clint trailed off with a sad edge to his voice. He was not sure who all was killed, but either way he lost all of the members of his tactical team to death or betrayal. They pulled into the police station and took Clint inside. The officers each grabbed at his elbow, and his arms being pulled back aggravated his wounds. He grimaced and tried to refrain from groaning with each step. They took him to the medical wing. He was left there under guard with the doctors. The doctor had Clint first remove his jacket, which was extremely painful to the injury as was pulling off his drenched shirt. The doctor removed the bandage, next examining the wounds.   
"Did they exit?" She clarified.   
Clint nodded, his eyes closed from the pain. The doctor pushed him back onto the table. A nurse came and he gave Clint an injection, which immediately made Clint feel tipsy. His body did not seem to exist. The only thing he had was his thoughts. The room dimmed and Clint's thoughts swarmed in his head. The bliss of unconsciousness beckoned. Darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

There was dim light. He was in room. The darkness drew back. He was in a gray jail cell. He became aware of his body, of his memories. He had been on the table, in the medical wing. He had been arrested for speeding, because he was being chased. He was attacked by his fellow agents. He was on a mission. He had been assigned to a team ever since New York. New York: when he had betrayed S.H.I.E.L.D and killed people, under Loki's mind control. He could still feel that demigod in his head sometimes. He never felt normal after that invasion. Never completely convinced that what he was doing was of his own will. He could never shake the presence of Loki. An awful thought flew into Clint's mind. What if that was why Anderson, Debey, and Stevens attacked him, maybe he was crazy. Maybe he had done something terrible, or it was simply time for him to pay for his crimes from Loki. He was unstable, mentally. He could still shoot his bow just as accurately, but a constant war of the mind waged, ever desiring to rid Loki from it. Clint ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated by the confusion he felt. He tried to sit up, but his abdomen hurt too much from his injuries. He slowly pushed himself up with his hands. His wounds were bandaged and he wore a clean shirt. He stood up as he heard a noise. A guard was delivering a tray of food. He muttered a thanks then moved to retrieve it from the floor. The meal had a balanced nutrition, but bland flavor profile. He absently shoveled food into his mouth. The next thing he knew was everything was falling around him. He was thrown against the wall as an explosion racked the building. A sharp hum buzzed in his ear. He distinguished the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. Everything phased out into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so this is it. This is all I have. I have no idea where the story is going after this. But feel free to leave suggestions!


End file.
